The Seeds of Unrest: the Iconoclast Oracle

[beleos]

RUNNING OUT THE CLOCK

The situation is bleak.

The Blight - and the massive labyrinth of roots tearing both cities asunder, spreading deadly flowers wherever they penetrate - have progressed to a point beyond catastrophe. People are dying in rapid numbers. Bearers are having difficulty keeping up with the spread of infection - even among one another. The collapse of Kenos seems inevitable; a cure will not come in time. You can do nothing but watch as each new day brings further disaster, ticking down the seconds until it all falls apart.

And then, you feel something seize your Shard. As if physical fingers have wrapped around it, as if it is being clutched through you by invisible hands, you feel invaded. You feel wronged. But before you can panic, a voice enters your mind through Communion.

“Excuse the dramatics, but there isn’t much time for pleasantries. The Trees are about to hit the point of no return. But there's still work to be done. The Tree of Life will take you where you can find it: the Oracle and the creature causing all this mess. Fix this when you find them. However you'd like.”

Have you heard Aetos’ voice before? Perhaps it is the first time; perhaps it is familiar to you. Either way, the last thing you will remember is a confusing jumble: a spell of immense and incredible power, one utilizing the Tree’s strength to shelter you. The sensation of every cell in your body coming alive, yet seeming to break apart and render you into billions and billions of tiny pieces, all hovering in different times and places across all the different iterations, timelines, and realities in which you have ever existed. A voice that speaks not through words asking your forgiveness, unspeakably sad.

And then, there is nothing.

AWAKENING

Your eyes open, gritty with the feeling of a long, deep slumber.

Perhaps it takes a moment to shake off the heavy veil of exhaustion, to recollect what you were doing before you fell into this state of hibernation - but as soon as you do, you feel an immediate sense of foreboding around you. It is thick in the air, oppressive and pervasive, and you aren’t left long to wonder at its source. You lay beneath the branches of the Tree of Life, but as your bleary eyes focus… you see it. The Tree is all but bereft of life. Its bark has withered down to gnarled wood, the soft lichen dried up, and the grass that should be alive beneath you is long dead and gone. There is not so much as a single leaf on its decaying branches.

It has been this way for a long, long time... you realize this with a feeling of intense dread as you see it - the beautiful expanse of stars, of the cosmos, of universes scattered like starlight above the tree's boughs, gone. In its place hangs a sickly, ominously low-hanging, and dying sun ready to sing the end of everything.

You can't help but wonder how long Kenos has been in this state, but a sense of gratitude fills you as you realize that the Tree expended the last of its energies to protect you, the Bearers, during your state of rest. Had Aetos worked with the tree to see you sent here?

The next question comes quickly: how much time do you have left…? And can you find the Oracle before that time expires?

ABANDON HOPE (DAYS 1 & 2)

The cornerstones are still active and will take you to whichever city you wish to see.

Highstorm and Springstar sit like empty monuments to the cities that were once filled with life - yet the first thing you will notice is they are strangely absent the signs of the Tree’s overgrown roots, the Blight, the catastrophic damage that you can recall all too easily. Instead, each city sits as those they were summarily abandoned overnight, leaving nothing but their shells behind. There is a stillness in the air that is unnatural and unsettling. Despite the lack of any sign of the citizens of either city, you cannot help but feel… watched.

Something terrible happened here. Best you find the Oracle before something terrible finds you, instead.

The burning of a dying sun beats down on you wherever you go, unbearable heat sending waves off the aged cobblestone streets. Perhaps it is your instinct to seek refuge in the shade - but linger too long about the shadows and that feeling of eyes on your back, of being unable to breathe, of your world closing in around you will grow untenable and drive you back into the light. If you hope to explore the ghostly shell of your city in search of the Oracle - or to sate your curiosity, some problem-solving might be in order.

And while you acclimate yourself to your circumstances, you cannot help but note you feel wrong inside, somehow…

EXPLORATION

• If your characters choose to explore previously unreachable areas, please use THIS TOPLEVEL to report when they get there in the thread! We will get back to you with what is discoverable in that location.
• The following areas are off limits for exploration: below Yima’s Manor; below the Church of Heliopolis; Alenroux; Kowloon.
• The Great Trees of both Highstorm and Springstar are in a similar state to the Tree of Life and will not respond to Communion.
• Generally speaking, items will be of poor quality. Most will look as though they’ve aged thousands of years. Others will be in half-decent shape, but sparingly so. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem like the whole city has aged at the same rate, so especially diligent rummagers can find worthwhile supplies. Please consider this should be rare and don’t go overboard!

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• Characters will have a diluted connection to the Zenith or Meridian.
• There will be periods powers are weakened or non-functional during days 1-2 (up to player discretion).
• The sunlight results in scorching; the shadows cause claustrophobia and fear while outdoors.

THE RITUAL (DAYS 2+)

The place you started your journey to Kenos is also where it seems it will end. As soon as the first Bearer makes contact with the Iconoclast effigy, you are collectively drawn to the roots beneath the Tree - like a pang sent through your Shard. Your objective has been found. The Oracle awaits.

Trusting Aetos seems like a fool's errand, but you must put your hope in the Tree. What choice do you have left? It's time to find what lies at the end of this.

Bearers descend, your steps echoing in the dark, cavernous space. Once brimming with life and vitality, the roots are now dried and brittle like the bones of some ancient leviathan that died long ago. As you make their way deeper into the earth, the deadened roots twist, leading you to a vast chamber deep within it; the air here is thick with the smell of decay, and the faint glow of luminescent fungi and mosses barely illuminates the space.

To your left, the Bearers will notice what has drawn them here - and the object of their search.

An effigy sits on the ground between two darkened tunnels. The effigy is made of gnarled, dead branches woven together in a humanoid shape; its hollow, empty eyes are sightless, yet you cannot help but feel it is watching your every move. Branded on its forehead is the Iconoclast symbol carved into the rough wood.

Once all Bearers are present, the Ritual will begin. Your means of exit have been sealed off, and you are trapped, slowly deteriorating together…

NOTES

• Bearers will have access to the Ritual Chamber which is a very wide, open space with the effigy situated against the far wall from the entrance. Several smaller tunnels off-shoot from the Ritual Chamber. They all run to dead ends; some are very small or narrow. This may afford you meager privacy away from the group.
• Once a Bearer steps into the Chamber, they can no longer head back out the way they came. They’ll find themselves automatically walking back into the Chamber as if of their own volition.
• For brevity’s sake we won’t list them out again here, but the complete description of effects Bearers will experience days 2+ is available in the OOC Summary.
• The effigy is impervious to damage.
• It Is Watching You.
• In a dead-end root tunnel attached to the Iconoclast’s Chamber is the Blighted statue of an Otter that may be familiar to some… Please see THIS TOPLEVEL for more information!

THE PURGE (DAYS 5+)

The sap has festered in your veins for what feels like days. It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed; this place has no sunlight. The effigy watches as you remain trapped, huddled together around it, unable to leave as you find yourself sick with the affliction of the Meridian, Zenith - or both.

And then… something finally gives.

Though it does not move and speaks no words, you feel the effigy offering you guidance. Knowledge. Much like the Tree speaks to you in impressions and feelings, you are conveyed wisdom you did not have before: a way to take what you want and rid yourself of what you do not. A way to make your convictions known to all who would hear them. A way to be known. To write your path in blood, be it yours… or theirs.

When all is said and done, only one force - Zenith or Meridian - will gain its favor.

Show it who you are. Show it what resolve looks like to you - and what you are willing to do to attain it.

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• You can Purge your alignment through various methods: Trading, Corrupting, or using the Effigy itself.
• All characters will understand the end goal is for everyone to Harmonize; the alignment with the higher rate of Harmonized Bearers alive when time’s up wins the Oracle’s favor.

NOTES

• A reminder that the Harmonization tally will take place on Friday, the 19th and be open through Monday, the 29th. The results will be released on Wednesday, the 31st OOCly.
• Don’t forget to submit any deaths to the Death Tracker, with a gentle reminder characters will remain dead until the event conclusion!
• Reminder to fill out the SETTING POLL ASAP if you haven't already!
• Have some MUSIC if you'd like. LYRICS here!
• HAVE FUN!!

CODING

Comments

HAYAME (JINBA) ➳ ICONOCLAST (MERIDIAN)

[warmare]

01 ↣ ABANDON HOPE [SPRINGSTAR] ↣ 希望をもう、捨てた

[The sun is scorching, but the shadows whisper. Hayame has scoured the breadth of Springstar looking for inhabitants, for someone to tell her what the hell had happened here, in this place undamaged by roots and Blight yet deserted for an apparent age... but she has found no one but her fellow shard-bearers. And they are not who she seeks. Once she gives up on people, she begins to look for something else. More important than food, than shelter...

She comes across an armory. Or perhaps it is best to say "what used to be an armory". ... Is it an armory? She's been out in the sun so long that she finds herself standing in front of the building dazed, suddenly unsure if she recognizes the building from her time training Springstar's archers under General Zaman. A bow... arrows... a blade...

The sun beats down as she tries to find the energy to remember what she was doing there.]

02 ↣ THE RITUAL ↣ 恐ろしい目の下、儀式待ち

[There have been times when Hayame managed to forget the mark of the Iconoclast on the back of her neck, visible beneath the high arc of her updone mane and the low fall of her collar. Now, though, here in the ritual chamber with the effigy watching over them... it fairly burns on her skin.

She stands across from the Iconoclast-marked monstrosity, glaring into its empty eyes as if demanding answers that aren't forthcoming. Ostensibly she is eating, a broken off piece of root in her hand revealing that the thing she's chewing on must be bark, but her focus is on the effigy, on trying to keep the heightened communion in this small space from jumbling her thoughts together. And if someone happens to interrupt her line of sight towards it-]

Move out of the way.

[You're blocking her staring contest.]

01 ↣ THE PURGE ↣ 信用しないなら自分でやるしかない

[The Iconoclast effigy has finally "spoken", worming its way into their hearts and depositing in them the knowledge of how to purge themselves of the unwanted energy warring within them. The problem was... it was not as simple as just returning to the factions they belonged to when they entered this room. Numbers would decide their fate, and for the second time... Hayame does not feel that she can trust her faction to secure victory.

And without that trust... she must do all that she can herself. She must remove that Yima woman's influence from her body. If others are so weak that they might fall to Zenith, then she must guard them to make sure they are not corrupted. If she is too late to do so... she must make sure they do not count towards her enemy's victory. There is no room to allow others' failures to prevent her from returning to the world she belonged.

In the dark of a side tunnel, Hayame lies in wait. And as a fellow Shard-bearer approaches, and her large form slowly begins to take shape from the shadows-]

[if Meridian-aligned] You do not need to be here, Meridian.

[if mixed] What business do you have with me?

[if Zenith-aligned] You have a lot of gall, showing your face here now.

04 ↣ WILDCARD ↣ 鬼札

[Hit up Hayame's plotting comment if you'd prefer a custom starter/want to discuss a specific thread! ❤️]

FOR AMOS ➳ HOW IT’S MEANT TO BE ➳ 話し合っても放せない物

[warmare]

[The Zenith energy in her body doesn’t feel as if it doesn’t belong. Not enough. Not as much as it should. Hopelessness is not an emotion she is unfamiliar with. She has mourned her world even as she fought viciously to return to it, throwing herself into service for the only power that claimed it would return her to the place that must exist if she is ever to fulfill the only duty she has left.

But she cannot abide it. The Oracle has made it clear how this contest will be decided, and she cannot allow herself to linger in the grey between Zenith and Meridian any longer. She cannot allow anyone else to, either. Still, it takes her time to separate her own thoughts from the jumble of shard-bearer’s thoughts bleeding into communion, to fight through the reminder of everything about her worlds that wasn’t worth saving…

Until she finds the mind she wishes to reach out to, across the mix of people and roots beneath the great dead tree.]

Amos.

[baltimores]

Yeah.

[ The voice that meets her is exhausted, drained. Frustrated. But present, even amid the din surrounding them, amid the discomfort of his own emotions surrounding it. Infected as he is with Meridian, he's spent the past few days trying to understand what it is and where that shit came from — and even once he'd recognized that longing and yearning was a false and foreign substance, it's not like he could do anything about it. Not then.

So he's still tired from it. And yet from where he is across the cavern he'll bring himself to his feet, his eyes finding Hayame's form because, well. She's a lot harder to miss than he is, but at least he's standing now. Looking out at her, his eyes ready to meet hers if she can find him.

Because he also knows that she isn't going to waste his time, and that counts for a lot right now when he's been left feeling alien in his own skin, in his own mind. ]

What's up?

[warmare]

[Perhaps they are all tired. Hayame does her best to hide her own exhaustion, even though it is Communion, and therefore all the harder to conceal. Even though it is pointless, considering what it is she plans to propose. The movement is what draws her eye to the man and not just the mind, their eyes meeting...

If she is going to hesitate, now would be the time. The Oracle had implanted in their head the way which they might purge themselves of the unwanted energies, and to do so... involved exposing their shards, opening up their hearts and minds to being known... But of all the Zenites, there had only been one she considered for this job. Even with what remained muddled (for her at least) from the last time they had laid eyes on one another, in the privacy of a room at the World's End...]

We each has what the other requires.

[Zenith, Meridian, the energies that were causing such a chaotic imbalance within their bodies... The sooner she returned to her rightful state...]

I propose a trade.

FOR LIEM ➳ A TRAITOR'S MERCY ➳ 頼った者に頼れない時

[warmare]

[When the time had come that the Oracle had somehow made clear in their hearts the conditions of victory in the trapped realm beneath the roots... There had been certain members of Meridian that Hayame had instantly thought might need to be guarded against being swayed to Zenith's side. People whom she considered to be weak-willed or infected already with an unscrupulous nature... They would need to be watched, to be secured if need be, perhaps even eliminated.

But Hayame had not worried about Liem. He was surely strong-willed enough, he was dutiful in his service to Meridian's cause... and this wasn't Horos. He wasn't infected with that dark sludge anymore. He had chosen Meridian of his own volition. They may be dealing with no weapons and unreliable powers, but he was trained and capable.

But eventually, as the days passed... something is wrong. Though her attention is taken by others, monitoring the demon and the one-eyed gaki that their accursed war god had brought into their midst, safeguarding some of their weaker members from corruption, she catches glimpses of Liem amongst the Zenith. She overhears things. And there comes a day, an hour, a minute... that she cannot ignore it any longer, even though she had known in her hearts what it meant from long before.

There is little privacy to be found beneath the tree, but she still waits until he leaves the main ritual chamber for a side tunnel, peeling away from her business to follow at a distance. She still waits until they are alone before she calls out to him, her voice hard.]

What are you playing at, Liem Talbott?

[If he simply told her that he was infiltrating the enemy, or indulging in those overly polite manners of his...]

[sterngaze]

[For a century and more, Liem's faith and his devotion have been the foundation upon which he has built every worthwhile thing in his life. He has never had anything to celebrate about his birth or his heritage, so it is his church's values — discernment, discipline, patience, diplomacy — that he has nurtured in himself, and found some measure of pride in as he goes about his days and nights. And it is Abadar's goals that he has spent his efforts furthering, even in this world so far removed from his own.

He has cleaved tightly to that faith, because he believed in the necessity of the work to be done — and if the work was necessary, then so was he. Despite everything, he could take pride in his service and find contentment in his existence.

But what if the work wasn't necessary anymore? What if the best way for him to be of service to anyone was to ensure that his life's work stayed dead and gone, along with all the other cruelties that had been so commonplace in the Creation he had known?

A strange kind of quiet descends on Liem when he rids himself of the stubborn vestiges of Meridian's light. The presence of Zenith colouring his shard's energy ceases to be corruption, grows calm without the presence of its opposite to bring turbulence to his thoughts. Finally, he feels peaceful — though in the same way that death is peaceful: without passion, or joy, or even conviction. It is familiar, in a way, reminding him of black stone halls and forbidding gothic city streets. He drifts away from the main cavern in search of more of that quiet, suddenly finding the exhaustion of the past week impossible to bear.

And he stops when Hayame calls out to him, one hand braced against the twisted wall of root at his side. Liem can hear her approach over the uneven ground, but he doesn't yet turn to meet the fire that he knows must fill her gaze.]

I play at nothing, [he says, sounding resigned.] I am too tired for games, Hayame.

[warmare]

[He refuses to turn and face her, even as he answers her hail. It would be insulting any day, perhaps enough to make her question where his usual impeccable manners had gone, but on this day... in these circumstances... she can only see in it shame and resignation. Her harsh gaze observes the knit of his shoulders, the angle of his stance... and behind him, unseen, her lips twist into an offended gash.]

Do you think I am not tired?

[Since the Oracle's announcement, she had ceased to have enemies and allies. Now, she had enemies, traitors, and potential traitors. And Liem-]

You stink of Zenith.

[Will he deny it? Will he turn and face her and deny it?]

02

[vapour]

[ Childe will casually peek back over his shoulder to see what he must be obstructing her from.

Huh... well, okay. Maybe Hayame is seeing or hearing something he isn't aware regarding the effigy. Apparently he's convinced enough not only to move out of her way but also come to flop down next to her and stare at the effigy alongside her, albeit it with way less conviction and energy.]

... How long have you been doing this? [the staring contest he means. It's easy to tell he is curious if she's having any luck or breakthrough that none of them are having. ]

[warmare]

[He might try to flop down next to her, but Hayame isn't about to allow it. When the man approaches and seems to be about to sit, she rather obviously moves several feet away, crossing her arms under her bound breasts.]

None of your business.

[She takes another ripping bite from the chunk of bark in her hand, chewing on the bitter substance with an inadvertent sneer.]

[vapour]

[ If she couldn't kill him right now with one excellently aimed back hoof he would get up and follow her, to be honest. She just made him get out of her way and then she goes and moves on her own? Last time he grants her a request.

Unfortunately, this is Hayame Power World Tour Event where you must respect those physically bigger and stronger than you... so he's just gonna shrug it off. ]

Oh? It would be great to know if you're getting somewhere, but okay, I'll ask something else:

Don't you ever get tired being in a nasty mood?

FOR SET ➳ THAT WHICH IS DONE IN THE SHADOWS ➳ 闇に行うことはいつか照らされる

[warmare]

[The first few days, she had not noticed. Chance or perhaps design had kept her from encountering the demon and the one-eyed gaki in Springstar, and the existence and safety of the god of war to whom she had pledged her violence was confirmed only with the presence of his mind in communion entwining at the border of hers, that place where desert sand lapped like waves against the cold of snowy mountain rocks.

In the ritual room, there is nowhere to hide. She sees who speaks to who, who cleaves to who… enough to confront a demon who she began to suspect was masquerading as a Meridian. Enough to nearly kill that demon easily, in the depowered state they all found themselves in that had made a jinba into perhaps the most physically powerful shard-bearer around.

That demon might still live by the grace of those that had held her back, but he now had one less eye. He wanted to consider them “even”? That was even.

But she does not address the god of war. She freezes him out, she turns her gaze from him for fear that if she doesn’t she will strangle the life out of him amongst the depowered. It isn’t until the Oracle makes clear the terms of engagement that Hayame actually appears at the border of sand and snow, her form in communion untenable and blurry with the muddled mix of Zenith and Meridian, the squall of other heightened communions that tear at her attention, the haunting visions of the worst parts of her world not saving. But she is furious enough to maintain her identity, for her hooves to paw restlessly at the sand, to snap and snarl into the desert air-]

What have you done, war god?

[redsoil]

[ The thunderous sound of Hayame's assault against her bitter enemy is sonorous to him, musical in might and violence. It is the manner of tension and hateful atmosphere that he craves, that he incites simply by existing; perhaps, in that, he will always fail her. The standard that she holds him to is one he works to meet, one that he wishes to meet, and one that he feels he will always, always fall short of. And for what? To be once again lambasted and maligned? To be begrudged for what he brings to Meridian, or for the company he keeps? In his own land, he had consorted with enemy gods all the time.

He knows why she comes. To demand answers from him, while he runs out of ways to explain to her why, what, how — everything, but the very core of his soul. ]

— my own duty, [ Zenith is cool, building within him. It allows him to remain level. Calm, as she bellows to him at the point where their minds meet. He does not emerge from the sands; instead, the whole desert seems to shift at the edge of her hooves. ]

[warmare]

[His duty? The answer only drives her more mad with fury, and combined with how he refuses to show his face when she calls… she can sense the Zenith in him and she hates it, she will drive into the desert and rip up that flower with her bare hands, she-]

Is it your duty to play house with Zenith?

[Her hooves lash info the sand as she nearly crosses the borders of their “lands”, calling out still into the empty air.]

It is our duty to win the oracles, and you have two Zenith among us for what?

the purge

[passio]

[ dextera knows himself. he knows he’s weak, and he knows he’s likely to fall victim to a belief in zenith if someone overloads him with enough energy or simply says the right words. he’s scared, and he doesn’t trust himself to commit to the faction he chose at the beginning of all this when the end seems so close.

there’s no one more certain in their conviction than hayame, of the people he knows, and so although the two of them don’t always see eye-to-eye… ]

…

[ he is meridian still, holding onto the energy he’s managed to take, but he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to stay this way. he meets hayame’s gaze, and the faint impression of communion ‘knocks’ at her shard. ]

I need help.

[warmare]

[The Oracle had made clear the rules of engagement, and in that instant Hayame had come to see nearly everyone around her not as enemy or ally... but as enemy, traitor, or potential traitor. The weak-willed could be swayed by anyone with a silver tongue and a soothing word, and the weak in power could be cornered and forced into accepting the energies of an enemy faction.

In these circumstances... how is she supposed to assure a Meridian victory?

The soulless eyes of the Iconoclast effigy catch her gaze... until someone else does. Dextera... Hayame does not move a muscle beyond a twitch and a tightening in the back of her jaw, but she does not need to move to answer. To ask,]

With what?

[She thinks she knows already. At least, she knows what she thinks of him.

"Potential traitor".]

[passio]

[ he thinks the same of himself, so if he had insight into her categories, he wouldn’t protest. ]

I… don’t know if I can…

[ he’s afraid of how to word it, like saying the wrong thing will just get him killed here. perhaps if it comes to that, it would be just as productive to ask hayame to kill him. ]

the purge

[hyperpotamous]

[ unfortunately, hayame was correct not to trust her own faction, though john could hardly have called himself loyal, to begin with. his loyalty has always been to himself if he's being honest, so this is no different. someone might've pushed, but he walked himself to the edge. by now, john has managed to take one other down with him and is on the hunt for more.

he turns down the passage hayame's lurking in, moving slowly because he lacks the advantage of his usual senses. which is why he fails to notice something horse-sized, he supposes. ]

Huh. You are amazingly stealthy; never would've guessed, you know, with the clip-clop and all.

[ he should know better than to pour fuel on this particular fire, but he is, as always, incredibly petty. ]

I wasn't looking for you anyway.

[ as potential converts go, he knows a lost cause when he sees one. ]

[warmare]

[Unlike most of the shard-bearers, Hayame has not lost a single ability or sense to the decoupling from their factions and then the poisonous mix of Zenith and Meridian energies. She had never relied on anything but her own body, and her body relied only on powerful centaurine biology and a lifetime of harsh training to forge herself into a weapon for humans.

But she has no masters any longer. She is a weapon only for herself, and for her duty to return to her world.

And right now... Zenith was standing in the way of one of the only things that promised a potential way out. More damningly... those weak-willed Meridians who let themselves be corrupted to Zenith's side were skewing the numbers.]

Who were you looking for, Fool of the Burning Gardens?

[She steps closer, clip clop muffled by the soft dirt of the tunnel floor, her expression steely and cold.]

Someone to whisper to in the dark?

[hyperpotamous]

[ this is why it's unfortunate that john is just the most average of guys. he's no fighter and has never needed to be anything else. ]

Well, it's not my favourite as titles go, but we'll add it to the list.

[ he doesn't back up, even if he knows he can't win right now. he's been God for too long and has forgotten what it feels like to be afraid that you can be hurt or killed. ]

You make it sound so sordid. We're all just pulling together in this trying time. [ he waves a hand dismissively. ] Who died and made you hall monitor?

sidles into 3;

[cryomance]

[ Doubt has always been a grave enemy of hers yet not one she's found herself surrendering to this extent. She finds she can't focus on anything else but questioning whether or not the path she'd set herself on is true. As someone who'd always been rooted in decisiveness and gut instinct, it catches her off-guard to find that both have abandoned her.

All that remains is an endless litany of doubtdoubtdoubt. What if her world can be saved? What if it yet persists out of reach? What if her cherished people are crying out in response to her abandonment?

Faintly, the voices of the other nuns sing around her, a hymn she must have heard a thousand time. A hymn about finding hope in the most dismal, rotten of places. Of reaching out to the Anemo Archon to be saved... she'd give anything right now to smother it out of her brain, which is why she welcomes the sharp voice that cuts through her thoughts.

Her eyes flicker upwards as she clings to her spear. ]

...I was looking for one of you. [ Any of the former Meridian would suffice at this point. ] I'm not partial to anyone's desperate seduction through choir music...

[warmare]

[It is Rosaria.

Normally... Hayame did not mind the other woman. She was a fine enough ally in a fight, she was usually no nonsense enough that she didn't bother her in a conversation, but now... Now, there is an Oracle in play. One that demanded superior numbers for victory. It means that she looks at Rosaria far different... for they are enemies today.

But even with her determination that they would be that now...]

- Choir music?

[Seduction? What?]

[cryomance]

[ She's envious no one else can hear it. If Rosaria had enough of a spiteful streak, she'd broadcast it out loud through as many communion links as she could reach. The other sisters were so sure their beloved anemo lord would save them in their time of need, and perhaps he did... perhaps, he protected their planet, and they are all simply awaiting her eventual return.

Her head shakes furiously as though she could somehow snap herself out of those thoughts, but they only resound louder in her head. ]

A pesky interference. Do you hear noting at all?

[ She's envious of Hayame if that is true. She's almost close to begging to be rid of this affliction, but there's enough pride left in her not to get on her knees, and she's clinging to the knowledge that optimism and hope are not who she is. She's pragmatic. She's seen the worst of humanity. She won't succumb. ]

Not even the voices of the dead? Or of Yima?

wildcard

[leicesters]

[Claude had been wanting to speak to Hayame ever since the incident with Sebastian, but finding time where they can discuss anything in some semblance of privacy is nigh impossible. By the time he finds her in a small passage in the roots, slightly secluded, he's tired and unshaven, the thin antler-like branches growing from his head are starting to rival his wyvern's, but he has, at least, finally purged the Zenith from himself courtesy of Jyn and harmonised with Meridian.

He isn't worried for himself. He knows how to keep out of trouble and survive, for however long they even have time left to survive. He is, however, worried about Hayame, and how likely she is to snap altogether under pressure like Dimitri did.

So when he approaches, he keeps a respectful distance at first. He doesn't want her to feel cornered.]

Hey. Can we talk?

[warmare]

[They're all beginning to show the strain of their entrapment. First the scorching heat of the dying sun, now the dark press of soil and earth under the soulless eyes of the Iconoclast oracle- the effigy marked with the same symbol that is imprinted on the back of Hayame's neck. But it isn't just hair that occasionally obscures that aspect mark anymore. At some point, thin vines that soon withered had sprouted amidst her hair, tangling with the jet black of her mane and tail.

At some point, sometime between stabbing a demon in the eye and now, days later...

Hayame's eyes are slightly wild with paranoia and edge when she turns to the sound of approach, relaxing slightly upon realizing it's Claude, but... not relaxing completely. She can't see everything. There's no telling, he might have turned traitor too when she wasn't looking-]

What is it?

[leicesters]

[He leans against a cavernous root, and for once, he's not feigning a smile or good humour. Maybe she'd be grateful for that, if the circumstances were otherwise, he thinks grimly.]

I wanted to see how you were doing. [He's worried about her, truthfully, which he can't do much to hide via communion, being amplified between them as loudly as it is now. He just won't say it outright, lest he be accused of somehow pitying her or thinking of her as weak. He looks across at her, meeting Hayame's eye.] And... I want you to know that, whatever happens, I'm on your side.

[Does a statement like that even mean anything when the world is about to end? Perhaps -- at least, Claude thinks so -- it means more because it could all end at any moment.]